


A Day in the Life of a Catboy

by Secondprinces



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: M/M, blame Eli 2k17, catboy, it's just fluff so much fluff and boys with cat ears and fluff and me sobbing, mostly just self-indulgence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-18
Updated: 2017-09-18
Packaged: 2018-12-31 02:15:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12122331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Secondprinces/pseuds/Secondprinces
Summary: “Well, not much I can do about that.”  Chrom’s laugh was gentle.  “I wanted to get a headstart on the day.  Lots of yardwork to be done.”“That’s not how you spell lounging on the couch with me all day,” Robin muttered.  “It’s your day off.”  He meandered over, trying to look disinterested, but plopped himself on Chrom’s lap, directly in the way of his breakfast and newspaper.  He helped himself to a sip of Chrom’s coffee.--A short slice of life where Robin is a catboy.  Chrobin fluff.





	A Day in the Life of a Catboy

**Author's Note:**

> This is mostly just very self-indulgent and maybe a little bit serious. I haven't written anything for myself in a while, and it's rare that anything I write isn't bittersweet...so...enjoy my one halcyon bit of fluff. Input appreciated, of course.

Chrom found Robin napping in the sunlight streaming through the living room window.  He’d been tracking its movement as the morning stretched on, scooting a few feet every hour until he ended up flush against the wall.  He snored lightly, tail swishing lazily.  He wore one of Chrom’s oversized hoodies and some old boxers and little else.

 Chrom hummed and poured his coffee.  “You know, there’s a perfectly good bed in the other room.”

Robin’s ears, nestled in disheveled white hair, twitched as Chrom opened the fridge door.  “Hm.  It’s not warm after you leave.”  He yawned and stretched out. 

Chrom wandered over to the table, coffee in one hand and a yogurt in the other.  He took a sip, yawning.  He was still dressed from his morning run, bangs plastered to his forehead and clothes drenched in sweat.  Robin wrinkled his nose, but sat up to stare at him.

“Well, not much I can do about that.”  Chrom’s laugh was gentle.  “I wanted to get a headstart on the day.  Lots of yardwork to be done.”

“That’s not how you spell lounging on the couch with me all day,” Robin muttered.  “It’s your day off.”  He meandered over, trying to look disinterested, but plopped himself on Chrom’s lap, directly in the way of his breakfast and newspaper.  He helped himself to a sip of Chrom’s coffee. 

“Robin—“  Chrom managed to lean to one side of him to get at his yogurt, but absently scratched Robin’s scalp with his free hand.  He spoke between bites.  “Aren’t you going to work today?”

Robin shook his head.  “I finished the rest of my manuscripts last night when I couldn’t sleep.  I’ll submit them via internet so I don’t have to go through the process of getting dressed.”

Chrom hummed.  Robin maintained most features of a human, save for some instincts and behavior of a cat—and of course the ears and tail.  When he went out, he usually wore a hat or a wig over top his ears and long pants to mask most of his odd characteristics.  This did not stop loud noises from startling him or movement from distracting him, but he managed.

“Sounds good,” Chrom finally said.

Robin settled down against his chest and drifted off.  He woke about fifteen minutes later, as Chrom drank the last sip of his coffee.

 “Hey, you should shower,” Robin said, “You smell awful.”

Chrom set the cup down.  “You’ll have to get up off of me first.”

Robin groaned, as if such a request was unreasonable, but climbed off of him.  Chrom’s one insurance.

Robin thumbed through a book while he waited, but he’d read it a hundred times.  Groaning, he rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling.  He was restless.  Sometimes this translated into him pacing the house, but for now he lay still, tightening his hands into fists then stretching his fingers out then tightening them again.  His eyes darted to the window.  The sun had tempered down into a dull haze, clouds looming.  Wind clutched at the trees.  It smelled like rain.           

He prowled to the window, tail flicking as he watched birds hop through their petunias.  He wanted to go outside, but pants and hats were too warm for the summer heat.  He groaned and rested his face against the glass and dozed again.

The doorbell startled Robin awake.  He leapt to his feet, ears back and tail poofy.

It rang again.

Robin glanced toward the hallway.  Keen ears picked up the splatter of the shower.  He sighed and crept up to the peephole to investigate.

A man in the UPS uniform stood there with packages in hand.

Robin glanced back to the hallway, silently willing Chrom to hurry up.  A few seconds ticked by, and Robin sighed, tugging on some sweatpants from the laundry basket on the coffee table.  If he didn’t answer now, the UPS man would leave an annoying little slip that would inform him that his books would be moved to a UPS access point—where they wouldn’t be accessible until the next day.  Robin hissed his disdain.  What a load of bullshit, this new policy of theirs.

Robin yanked the door open just as the UPS man had started scrawling on his notepad.

“That won’t be necessary,” Robin said.  “I’ll sign for them.”  He reached out a hand.

As he signed, he could feel the man’s eyes on his ears.  They laid back on his head in disdain and unease.  He handed back the device and pen and held out his hands for the packages.

“Are those…cat ears?” The man asked.  He did not hand over the delivery.

Robin’s eyes narrowed.  “Yes.  It’s a new kind of headband that reads and reacts to vital signs.  Package?”  Thank god his tail was hidden at least.

The man whistled.  He reached up to touch them, but Robin swatted his hand away. 

“Package,” Robin repeated.

The man chuckled and handed them over.  “You furries sure are getting more and more intense.  Almost thought you were gonna hiss at me.” 

His laugh continued, even as Robin slammed the door, both packages under one arm, to storm back to the coffee table.  He stepped out of the pants, ripped open both of the boxes, but was too agitated to much focus on the books he’d received.  Instead, he stalked to the kitchen to slurp up the rest of the coffee from the pot then tore open a tuna pouch, picking pieces out with his fingers as he filled in the morning crossword.

Robin didn’t notice the water stop, but he glanced up at the scuff of feet on the carpet.

“Everything okay?  Who was that?”

“UPS,” Robin said, schooling his expression into something calmer.  He didn’t look up from 47 across. 

“What are you upset about?”

“I’m not upset.”

“Your ears are lying back,” Chrom said gently.  He scooted the second chair around to the same side of the table as Robin and sat down.  He smoothed his hair. 

Robin scowled and looked away.  Sighed.  Then put his pencil down.  “It’s nothing.  I should have worn a hat is all.  I forgot the world looks at me like I’m a freak.”

Chrom blinked, but he nodded in quiet understanding.  “Ah.”  Carefully, he gathered Robin into his arms and pressed a kiss against his temple.  “Well, you’re not a freak.”

“I know,” Robin said, “But I’m not exactly well accepted.  I don’t know if I’m a cat with human characteristics or a human with cat characteristics.  I’m not even sure where I came from or why there seems to be only one of me.   I can’t leave the house without a disguise.  I’m restless and frustrated and confused.”

Chrom’s expression softened.  He squeezed him just a little tighter.  “I can’t say I can even fathom any of what you’re going through,” he finally said, after careful thought.  “But I’m here for you as long as you need me, even if you just want to vent.  I will give you anything that’s within my power.”  He pressed another kiss to his face, this time to his cheek.  “I love you.  There’s more to you than your exterior.  You’re clever, you’re mischievous, you’re ridiculously smart…”

Robin hummed, absently kneading into Chrom’s side with his hands.  He noticed what he was doing and crossed his arms, embarrassed.  “Now you’re just being a ham.”

Chrom’s chuckle rumbled deep within his chest.  “Me?  Never.”  He set his chin down on the top of Robin’s head.  “If you want to get out of the house, we did put that fence up.  You can help me mow the lawn or something.”

“That sounds awful,” Robin said.  “Though I might read out in the sun.”  He glanced out the window.  Clouds had smothered the morning light.  A few drops of rain pelted the glass.  “Or…not.”

Chrom groaned.  “The homeowner’s association is going to ride my butt about our lawn…”

“It’ll probably clear up before evening,” Robin said.  “And it’s not our problem they feel the need to wander around with a ruler measuring people’s lawns.”  He scoffed.

The wind picked up.  A crack of thunder shook the house, and Robin—eyes shooting wide open—bolted.

“Robin—“

Chrom sighed.  A few seconds later lightning seared through the dark, followed by a louder fit of thunder.  Raindrops slashed across the window.  Branches rattled against the pane.  “Hey, I thought you wanted to snuggle on the couch together,” he called out.

He found Robin underneath the coffee table, tail a bottlebrush, pupils dilated, and ears back.

“You okay down there?”

Robin nodded.  “Yeah.”  Slowly, he crawled out, flinching at the next crack of thunder.  He glowered at Chrom.  “Don’t you dare laugh—my hearing is 10x more sensitive than yours.”

Chrom lifted his hands in defense.  “Hey, I wasn’t going to laugh—“

“Ten times!”

“How about I pour us some wine and you can pick something to watch,” Chrom said.  He headed toward the kitchen.

Robin listened to the pour of liquid and the clink of glasses, focusing on that rather than the thunderstorm.  He took a few breaths, but ventured toward the DVDs on the shelf, leafing through until he found one.  He popped it in.

“What’d you pick?” Chrom asked, setting the glasses down.  He’d gone to the bedroom to grab as many pillows and blankets that would fit under his other arm.  These he arranged into a comfortable little nest before propping himself up on the pillows.  He patted the empty space in front of him.

“Generic sports movie number three with a feel-good moral lesson,” Robin said.  “I’m not in the mood for satellite, and if you like the movie you’ll be more inclined to sit still.”  He settled down against Chrom, cheek resting on his bicep and Chrom’s other arm tucked around him, only moving to take a sip of wine.  Occasionally Robin intercepted it for a sip, despite his own glass sitting within reach.  Nimble fingers flipped through the pages of his new book.

Robin barely paid attention to the movie.  The pull of his book and the quiet rise and fall of Chrom’s chest, tempered by steady heartbeat, lulled him into a quiet doze.  He felt safe here; a quiet purr rumbled through his chest, just barely audible for the storm raging on.


End file.
